


What exactly were you doing up there?

by hobbeshalftail3469



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Double Entendre, F/M, Ilsa and Robin being really intrigued, Robin and Strike have a little secret!, Strike and Nick making some odd noises overhead, Total daftness, getting completely the wrong end of the stick!, it's all really innocent!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 12:10:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20796422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbeshalftail3469/pseuds/hobbeshalftail3469
Summary: This is one of my, 'Wrote this ages ago' fics that I recently rediscovered.Lula and I were going through a phase of trying to write double entendres and mixed meaning ideas ("Could we realistically make Robin and Ilsa think the lads are at it?")....and this came about.I added the little twist at the end because I have a secret little thing for Strike and Robin keeping their relationship a secret at first.......





	What exactly were you doing up there?

“Just grab hold of it and give it a decent bit of oomph!”   
Strike’s deep, resonant tones echoed around Nick and Ilsa’s bedroom.   
His brow was shimmering with sweat, his shirt sleeves rolled up to show his dark forearms.

“Are you sure this angle is going to work? It seemed a bit easier the other way!” Nick’s frustrated and slightly panting voice replied.

“Look…..you’re better at the screwing and I’m better at holding it….let’s play to our strengths and just get the job done!” there was a clear irritation to Strike’s voice and he grunted as Nick altered his position causing the heavy end of wooden bed frame to drop further.

“I knew it was too good to be true…..I honestly thought it would be easier to put together than this!” Nick shrugged his arms wide at the various bits of wood and assorted screws strewn around what space there was in Nick and Ilsa’s bedroom – the mattress was propped up against the wardrobes and the old bed out on the landing.

“It’ll be fine once we get these cross pieces fitted, it’s just this corner bit – it really needs three people; 2 to hold and position the bloody thing and another to screw the piece in place,” Strike dragged the back of his hand across his brow, resting the large piece of wood on his knee.

“OK, right. Let’s have another try at it…..is it going to slot in or do I need to stick it higher?” Nick asked, blind from his position behind Strike.

“Just take it back out and try again. Ow!” Strike panted.

Meanwhile Ilsa and Robin were walking up the path after their pre arranged shopping trip.   
They were laden with bags and giggling over Robin’s purchase of underwear; Ilsa dared her to drop the contents of the bag infront of Strike and they were taking bets over which shade of the Dulux colour chart he’d blush!

Ilsa unlocked the door and they instantly ceased all conversation:  
“ Not like that…..ow, no….try again it’s not quite fitting.”

“I can’t really see where I’m supposed to be sticking it….give me a bit of feedback.”

“Just pull back and ram it forwards now….now, like that.”

The mixed, panting voices of Strike and Nick could be heard clearly….although what they were up to was less clear.   
Floorboards were squeaking and a rhythmical rocking sound could be heard.

“That’s perfect Nick….just keep doing that. It’s working!”

Robin and Ilsa flashed each other glances that were horrified and bemused in equal measure.  
Ilsa climbed up a couple of the stairs and shouted up, “Errr, Nick, are you OK….we’re back.”

“SHIT!!

“Fuck! They’re back already!”

Nick’s voice, loud and insistent, “DON’T COME UP! We’re kind of in the middle of something up here.”

“Evidently!” muttered Robin, raising her eyebrows at Ilsa.  
“What are you doing?” Ilsa asked.

“Nothing….we won’t be long!” Strike’s rumbling and slightly out of breath voice replied.

“I suppose we should leave them to whatever they’re up to and give them some privacy,” Ilsa stated.  
Robin nodded and the pair walked through to the kitchen where they deposited their bags.  
Robin grabbed the glasses, Ilsa grabbed the bottle from the fridge and they plonked down on the bottom stairs to eavesdrop.

N :“It’s this bit here, it’s sticking.”

C : “Well, slather a bit more of that grease on it and I’ll try to wriggle it a bit.”

N : “All over or just on the end?”

C: “No, cover it…..it’ll just slide right into place……that’s it, lovely.”

A grunt was heard from Cormoran along with a satisfied exhalation from Nick.

C : “Right, your turn now.”

N : “I’m almost there, just think it needs a decent bang to make it nice and snug.”

There was a loud thump.

N: “No, one more, I’ve got a better footing and hold now, give it a proper shove.”

A noisy shout from Strike coincided with a satisfied exclamation from Nick. 

Ilsa sipped her wine and without looking at Robin murmured, “That sounds exactly like the noise he makes after……..you know!” and she raised her brows.  
“Duly noted!” Robin winced. 

C : “Right, now grab that bit, let’s finish it off properly.”

There was the sound of something scraping on the floor followed by Strike grunting further.  
C : “Are you absolutely sure Ilsa wants this?”

N : “Yes! This is exactly what she wants….we talked about it ages ago….I just thought this way would be a nice surprise…..she won‘t be expecting it.”

Down on the staircase Robin and Ilsa were flashing each other silent faces of confusion and alarm at each comment and noise.

“Just how close are Cormoran and Nick?” Robin sniggered following a particularly loud groan from Strike.  
Ilsa shrugged her shoulders and twisted her mouth, “Just be pleased that whatever they are up to isn’t taking place in your bedroom!”  
They clinked glasses and gulped half a glass of white wine each as they considered the possible events leading to the various grunts and pants from the two men above.

N :”Just a bit further. That’s it….bit more…nearly there”

Rhythmical panting and squeaking of floorboards followed by a mutual exclamation of delight.  
C : laughing “Christ I’m glad I’m in a bit better shape….I couldn’t have done that 6 months ago!”

Robin and Ilsa leapt up when it became clear that one of the men was on the move and heading downstairs.   
They skittered into the kitchen and assumed a neutral position beside the breakfast bar.   
Cormoran ambled nonchalantly into the kitchen, his hair a tousled mess, breathless and blowing sweat from his brow by angling his lower lip out and directing his breath.

“Alright? I’m just gonna have a fag,” he sniffed and, avoiding their bemused expressions, headed for the patio door, sliding himself into his large overcoat en route.

Nick appeared a few seconds later shaking his hands, “Bit messy, sorry,” and he advanced to kiss Ilsa. “Did you get anything good?” he indicated the various shopping bags.

“I’m not sure I got anything as good as what you just got up there!” Ilsa remarked, wrinkling her nose. “Nick, what the hell?”  
Nick blushed sweetly, his flushed cheeks still pink from exertion deepening in colour. 

“I was going to put some tinsel on it and make it special….sod it, come on let me show you. Robin, you don’t mind do you….just give us a minute…I want to see her reaction first?” Nick grabbed Ilsa’s fingers and dragged her towards the staircase, leaving a baffled Robin stood in the kitchen, puffing out her cheeks. 

Strike discarded his cigarette stub in the pot next to the back door and dragged his large palm across his hair; in theory to tidy it up, but only succeeding in creating a different version of messy curls.  
“Where did they go?” he asked as he came back inside to the kitchen.

“Nick took Ilsa upstairs to get her reaction to….well, whatever you were up to up there,” she explained.

“Oh….in that case, probably our cue to leave. Which of these are yours?” Strike asked, gesturing the enormous collection of bags.

“Just these and….that one,” she indicated the one from a well known lingerie shop and noticed Strike’s eyebrows raise slightly as he gave a noticeable swallow before picking it up and shaking his head at her outstretched hand, “I think I’m in tune enough with my femininity to be seen carrying it!” 

“I don’t doubt it….but what the hell were you and Nick actually doing?” she asked as they made their way to the door, Robin pulling on her coat and gloves. “I’m not going to tell you what it sounded like….” She trailed off and saw Strike’s flash of bemusement followed by realisation and amusement.  
He pulled the door closed behind them as they retraced Robin’s steps from earlier towards the tube.

“I was just doing a favour for a mate…..pressie for Ilsa…..she’ll love it apparently….Nick needed my expertise, I was happy to oblige!” Strike explained without actually explaining anything.

“Yeah, but…..what exactly? At one point Ilsa said Nick made his sex noise!”

At this, Strike rolled in his neck and pouted, directing his look of slight horror towards Robin’s twinkling, blue-grey gaze.  
“I can’t claim any authority in verifying that, but I certainly didn’t get that excited about building a bloody bed!......Now trying it out might be a different matter!” he waggled his dark eyes lasciviously at Robin’s relieved and amused grin.

“A bed! Oh thank god! I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to look the pair of you in the eyes again!” She giggled. “I didn’t want to let on that you made yours too!”

“My what?” Strike drawled, sliding the bags into one hand and slipping the free one around Robin’s waist now that they were out of sight of the Herbert’s house.

“You know…..your…..the vocal equivalent of a cum face!” Robin spat out, blushing furiously much to Cormoran’s amusement.

“You’re the one that wanted to keep it a secret for a while….what did she say when you were buying these?” he waggled the underwear bag.

“Oh it was hilarious, she dared me to drop the bag infront of you and we were going to compare your face to the paint chart…..whereas I’m placing a side bet on how long you’ll let me keep them on for!”

“Hmmmm, what’s your estimate?” he grinned, peeking into the bag, but only seeing tissue paper.

“Evens money on less than 10 minutes!” and he growled tightening his arm around her and hoisting her off her feet as they walked along, his pace hastening.

“Hurry up woman….I think I may need to prove my masculinity to you!” he almost shouted, which made her laugh louder as several heads turned.

Life in Yorkshire seemed a little dull compared to this!.......and she wouldn’t swap it for where she was now!


End file.
